Unfinished Sympathy
by haichuraichu
Summary: This is a Femslash Quinn/Jane pairing.  Quinn needs some extra money, Jane places an ad in the paper for a nude model... You know the rest, heh. Each chapter consists of two segments. If you enjoy it, please give me a heads up. UPDATE: Chapters 3 & 4
1. Chapter 1

**1**

"So, explain to me again why you can't just go to a local college and attend one of their nude model sessions?" asked Daria, before diving into another slice of pizza. Jane sighed, unsure of how to explain it further.

"I can. I just want a more… intimate setting," she replied. Daria cocked an eyebrow, smirking as she chewed.

"So this is some kind of date as well?" Jane groaned.

"No! I just want to see if it has any effect on my work. I've never drawn a portrait of someone in an isolated setting, much less a nude portrait. It's an artistic experiment Daria, not a singles ad."

"Right. Good luck," Daria said, earnestly.

"Thanks." Jane couldn't help but feel a bit anxious. It was just weird having a total stranger come to your house and sit in your room, naked, just so you could explore your artistic terrain. And she hadn't put any sort of preference regarding gender or body type in her ad, so it could literally be anyone. In hindsight, she was worried she should have specified female. Perhaps depending on Trent for safety wasn't the wisest choice. But she hadn't wanted to hinder herself artistically… Images of a deranged, naked lunatic wielding a machete deluged her brain, until she heard Daria's voice sharply cutting through.

"Jane? Jane. _Jane_."

"What? Oh! Damn, sorry. Spaced out."

"Yeah, I can tell. What time is your little tryst anyway?" Jane looked at her watch. It was 5:30. She was expecting the model at 6:15.

"We have 45 minutes. I guess we should pay in a bit. I want to set up some stuff before they arrive."

"Alright," said Daria, reaching into her book bag for her wallet. As she opened it and began rifling through her money, a look of utter dismay spread across her face.

"Oh damn it. Do you think you could spot me a few bucks?" Her lips were pursed in anger.

"Sure. Why do you look so pissed?"

"My sister is an obnoxious brat. She's been going on and on about these new platforms she wants, that she just had to have by this weekend because she has a date. And that explains where my ten went."

"Oh, wow. She's a sneaky one," Jane said, grinning.

"Yes, let's commend her for her stealth," Daria snapped.

"I assume you'll be exacting quick and painful revenge?" Jane asked, sliding out of the booth.

"As always."

The walk home was quick, as usual. They parted at Jane's house, where they made plans for a movie the next day, and Daria wished Jane luck once more.

**2**

Jane had stripped the bed of everything except for the brick colored sheet, which she thought would be a complimentary color to any skin tone. She got her canvas set, as well as all the various shades of paint she would potentially need. After it was all ready, she headed downstairs to wait for the mystery model.

Trent was milling around the kitchen, opening the fridge every few minutes in the hopes that something tasty had magically materialized on one of the shelves.

"Hey Janey," he said. His voice, in its usual calm and throaty tone, calmed Jane's nerves a bit.

"Yo." She sat at the table, and slid down in her seat, propping her feet up on the tabletop. She checked her watch. 6:10

"Do me a favor?" she asked.

"Um…" Trent's head was halfway in a cabinet, checking it's cobwebbed corners. He removed his head, swiped at the dust on his face, exhaled slowly, and accepted his defeat.

"What's up?"

"The model is coming over, an-"

"Whoa, model?" Trent's eyes widened.

"The nude model Trent. For my art? Not a super model."

"Oh yeah." Trent reverted back to his bored demeanor, showing no sign of disappointment.

"Yeah. Well, can you just do me a favor and look out the window? If you see someone coming to our house, just tell me what they look like? If they look at all dangerous… We can just not answer the door."

Trent shrugged. "Sure thing, Janey." He ambled towards the window and peered through.

"Hmm… no one yet… Oh. There's someone."

"What? Shit. Quick, what are they like?"

"It's Mrs. Wakefield, from across the street." Jane bit her tongue before something caustic came out.

"A stranger, Trent."

"Girl walking down the block," he announced.

"Hm… Okay, could be her. What does she look like?"

Trent squinted. "Uh… normal? Girly looking. Kinda familiar… Whoa, she's walking to our porch." He retreated quickly, as if the girl had caught him spying.

"Crap. Okay. Alright, this is good. Girly looking girls are never dangerous," Jane stated, trying to shake off all her anxiety. She walked over to the door, took a deep breath, and flung it open.

A second passed. Then two. Maybe three. Jane couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"Uh…" Jane's previous anxieties had been usurped by an entirely new set of fears, only this time, they were all too real. Now she had to ask her self, what was more horrifying? Unhinged stranger? Or Daria's sister, Quinn, standing in front of her, a mirror image of her shock, for the sole purpose of undressing and letting Jane delineate her naked body on a canvas.

Quinn gave a sheepish smile.

"Why… Okay. Wait. What the hell is happening right now?" Quinn gave an exasperated sigh.

"Look. I just needed some money. I saw the ad in the paper. Easy buck, right? And it's for art! Easy and classy. And I know you, you're not a stranger, so it wouldn't be some pervert or something, and I knew if asked you, you would say no, but now you can't say no, I mean I'm already here, so _please_?"

Something clicked in Jane's brain, and she couldn't help but chuckle a little at the comedy of the timing.

"So my payment is going to help you finally snag those platforms, eh?" Quinn bridled.

"How did _you_ know about that?"

"I had to spot your sister for pizza. Seems her ten had mysteriously vanished from her wallet." Quinn flung her hands up dramatically.

"Okay, _fine_! So I wanted a pair of shoes, hasn't there been anything _you_ wanted bad enough you would do anything to pay for? It was a labor of love, my love of fashion! Besides, I don't even need her money anymore. This will cover it."

"Look. Whatever. Obviously this can't happen, it's just too weird. I know I let you stay here once before, but that was different. You'll have to find someone else," Jane said. Quinn's face fell.

"Nooo! Look, I won't tell anyone, and you won't! Hell, this date tomorrow will probably be worse than this. Just please, let's do it, okay? I've come too far!"

Jane chewed her lip, feeling torn. On one hand, yes, it was quite weird, not to mention the fact she and Quinn weren't exactly friendly to begin with. On the other, she did get lucky with not getting someone insane, and she really had wanted to commit to this vision. She felt the urge to not let the opportunity go to waste.

"Alright," she finally said. "Come in."

"Thanks! Don't worry, no one will find out. Like I'd want anyone to know I was with _you_ on a Friday night anyway," Quinn said, following it with an oblivious giggle.

"Keep that up, and I can find a new model like that," Jane said, snapping her fingers for effect. It wasn't true, and she wasn't particularly hurt, but she didn't enjoy letting Quinn get away with such snobbery.

"Sorry."

"Hey," said Trent, remerging from the kitchen. He was munching on a pop tart.

"Where the hell did you find that?" asked Jane.

"My secret cupboard compartment."

"Uh…"

"I totally forgot about it. Hid these there when I was thirteen."

Jane grimaced, and Quinn let out a long, drawn out "Ewwwwwwwww!"

"My thoughts exactly," said Jane. "I want to know nothing more about it. We're going to go upstairs now. Obviously if you need me, knock. And only if it's an emergency."

"Yup." Trent headed into the living room so he could enjoy the bliss of his stale pop tart in the luxury of his couch.

Jane jogged up the stairs, with Quinn following closely behind, trying to quell all thoughts of how utterly surreal this whole scenario was. Last time Quinn was here, she just needed a place to stay. She drove her crazy, but it was fine. But this?

_Why do I do things I know I'll probably end up regretting_, she thought.

Quinn wrinkled her nose as she entered Jane's room, appraising her surroundings.

"Looks the same as last time," she commented.

"Things don't change much around here." They both stood there for a few seconds, until Quinn broke the silence.

"So are you going to, like, turn away or something?"

"Oh! Uh. Well... I mean there's no purpose but yeah, sure." Jane turned around, and heard the sound of Quinn's clothing sliding off her body. For some reason, she felt very nervous. What would it be like to see someone naked that you knew? Would it change them forever afterwards? Would it make them act different? Would it not matter at all, and was she just being overly dramatic?

…What would she look like?

Jane found that this last thought made her ache a bit inside, but not in an entirely unpleasant way.

"Done!" announced Quinn, cheerily.

Instead of turning, Jane headed towards her supplies, checking her work area once more.

"Sit on the bed, I'll position you in a sec." She stared at her supplies, knowing there was no point in checking them; she had meticulously gone through everything before Quinn's arrival. _Alright. Turn around._

Quinn's body was not exactly a surprise. Her normal outfits hinted at a petite, lithe body. But what clothes didn't hint at was the outline of her body as she lay on her side; one long, graceful line, starting at the tiny, steep hill from heel into ankle, lazily tracing long, thin limbs, rising at an accentuated hip, and plunging devilishly in to a nominal waist, only to inch its way back up to reveal small, full breasts. What clothes didn't hint at was how her red hair would look like flames against the paleness of her naked body, illuminated by the dark red of the sheet, and what clothes could never have hinted at was the foreign sensation that had invaded Jane's body, like some kind of virus with all new symptoms, none that she could identify.

"Should I just stay like this?" Quinn asked. Jane eyes darted towards her face, noticing her palm pressed into her flushed cheek.

"Um…" Jane began, trying to force herself to think in a more art-oriented fashion. "You're going to get uncomfortable like that. Why not prop up some pillows, they're by the floor over there, and lean against them?" As Quinn did so, Jane felt guilty for not just going there by herself and helping her. But she did not want to explore the effects of having viewed Quinn naked further, and decided that this distance was manageable, doable, and she wouldn't push it.

Quinn leaned against the pillows, still on her left side, but sitting more upright. Her left arm was draped over the pillows as if they were the arm of a couch, and her right lay across the outline of her body, hand gently clasping her thigh.

"Cool," Jane croaked, feeling lame. "Looks good."

"Thanks," Quinn chirped. Jane inhaled slowly, cleared her mind (as best she could), and began to sketch.


	2. Chapter 2

**3**

After a couple of hours, Jane had managed to complete the sketching, shading, and much of the coloring. All she needed to do now was fine-tune the details. She and Quinn had exchanged some meager small talk. ("Isn't this weird?" "Yeah." "Wonder what Daria would say!" "I'd rather not know." "You're not showing this to people, are you?" "Probably not." "What?" "Sit still.") But Quinn fell into what seemed to be a pensive stillness, and for those few hours, the silence remained uninterrupted, and the air was filled with nothing but light strokes against the canvas. Jane found that the one-on-one atmosphere helped her concentrate. It let her become completely absorbed in what she was doing.

"Break time?" asked Jane. Quinn nodded gratefully. She stretched her limbs and rose slowly, shyly hugging herself as she sat upright.

"Strange time to be modest," Jane said, taking a sip from a water bottle she had kept nearby. Quinn blushed.

"Well, if I sit up like this… I don't want to look chubby, you know?" Jane's hand flew to her face as she shook her head.

"Quinn. I just spent two hours drawing you. You are not chubby. And even if you were a little, don't you get sick of sounding so superficial all the time? Who cares if you are? You'd still look great." She wanted to slap her self once the sentence had ended. Quinn smiled, and slowly withdrew her arms.

"Really?" she asked. Jane rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, and you know it. So please, don't go on about it. I'm not the Fashion Club, and I'm not playing into it." Quinn nodded.

"Ok, whatever."

"Water?" Jane offered, grabbing the extra one she brought. Quinn nodded. Jane averted her eyes as she bent down to grab a blanket from the floor, and draped herself in it before walking over to Jane.

"So you really wanted those platforms bad enough to let me, of all people, draw you naked?" Jane asked, still a little incredulous at the fact.

"I didn't plan to or anything, but I saw the ad in the paper, and I recognized your house number… I mean I would never, ever do anything like this normally, but as weird as you are – er, I mean, well… as _different_ as we are, I knew I could at least trust you to not be weird! And if you ever have to use the picture somewhere, you could just change my face, right?" Quinn looked genuinely worried.

"I didn't know you were that reserved," Jane admitted.

"Oh, I mean sure I've always wanted to model, but in the nude? Totally weird, I would never! I mean, not for strangers to see anyway, obviously." She giggled and took another sip of water.

"Yeah, I'll figure something out if I ever want it out there or something. Probably won't though. I'm not exactly itching to get my work into the art world just yet."

Quinn smiled, looking relieved. "Well… I should be getting home soon, so maybe we should finish it up?"

"Sounds good."

Quinn let her blanket fall as she walked back towards the bed, and Jane had to try very hard not to think about what the sight of Quinn from behind was doing to her.

**4**

"All done," Jane said, stepping back and giving her work a pleased overview. Yes, each last detail had been finely tweaked. The shadow underneath her bottom lip, which seemed to be in a perpetual pout, was perfect. Both the highness and fullness of her cheek was captured accurately, and her eyes, with their odd mix of vacancy and cleverness, stared back at Jane as if from a photograph.

"Great! I can't wait to see it," Quinn gushed. She quickly put on her clothes while Jane averted her gaze, beginning to put away her supplies. Quinn bounced over excitedly.

She stared at the picture for a few moments without saying anything.

"Wow," she said. "I thought you were going to do something all creepy and Picasso-like, but this is really amazing."

Jane blushed. She ran her hand through her dark hair and shrugged modestly.

"Thanks."

"I mean really," Quinn continued, "I look great!"

"I am a very talented artist," Jane quipped.

"Ew!" Quinn exclaimed with a pout, folding her arms.

Jane reached in her back pocket where she had a couple of folded bills stuffed.

"Here's your payment," she said, handing Quinn the money. Quinn paused before taking it, looking as though she were about to say something, but then accepted it silently.

"Rethinking those platforms?" Jane asked.

"No. I think I just feel weird being paid by you," Quinn said,

"Honest work deserves honest pay. Don't worry about it. Besides, feels good to actually earn something for once, doesn't it?" Quinn opened her mouth to protest, but then thought better of it.

"I guess this is a first," she said. "And I didn't even have to work in some icky retail store, helping people with no fashion sense!"

"Looks like fate is on your side."

"Yeah, I guess," Quinn said, giggling. "Well anyway! I should probably head home now."

"Yeah," Jane agreed, although she was a little hesitant to let her go, only because she knew that once she was alone, her suppressed thoughts were going to spring up, forcing her to confront things she felt too weak to confront.

They headed downstairs, and heard the sound of lightly strummed repetitive chords coming from a guitar, accompanied by Trent's singing. He stopped when he saw them.

"You didn't get sick from those pop tarts?" Jane asked. Trent blinked as he tried to recall what she was referring to.

"A little queasy." Quinn wrinkled her nose in disgust at the memory.

"Alright, well… I'll see you later," she said to Jane.

"Yeah. See ya."

"Bye Daria's sister," Trent called. Jane closed the door behind Quinn, and leaned back against it, looking upwards. There was no running from it now.

_What_, she thought, _just happened? _


	3. Chapter 3

**5**

Quinn shivered as she walked home. A chill was starting to set in. She tried to lose herself in her thoughts in an effort to ignore the overwhelming desire for a jacket.

She recalled looking in the ads section of the newspaper in desperation, hoping that there would be something outside of cruel and unusual labor that she could see herself doing to make a buck. The words "Nude Model" stuck out, and although she hadn't seriously considered it initially, she read the rest of the ad. It was for art, and the asker was female. The street sounded familiar at first, and after a few seconds, she realized it was Jane Lane's street.

She remembered realizing that this would probably be the easiest way to make the amount of money she needed, and that she knew Jane, and didn't have to worry about her safety. She had weighed the pros and cons carefully. Pros: She would have money for the shoes, she would look super cute, and she would be a knockout at her date tomorrow. Cons? Well… Jane wasn't exactly her biggest fan. She mostly just drove Jane crazy, and Jane usually weirded her out, much like Daria did. And sure, she had stayed there before, but Jane hadn't seen her naked.

But there was some kind impetus, one she did not exactly understand, or even try to, that made he resolve to go through with it. It was money, it was easy, and Jane was trustworthy. She told herself that was all that mattered. She had sent the email confirming the appointment, and that was that.

And what of the actual occurrence? Quinn had always felt a little… well, strange around Jane. And it wasn't just that she was "weird", and like Quinn had earlier stated, different than her. That was there too, but that was also something she felt when she was around Daria. What she felt around Jane was the strange sensation of almost feeling intimidated… but not quite. And that evening, that feeling was all too present.

Jane had a sort of aloof, sardonic coolness that made Quinn feel jittery at times. She found herself comparing the sullen artist demeanor that Jane possessed to the look of brooding, "rebel" heartthrobs that girls would go hysterical over. It was something in her slouch, her half-lidded eyes, and her uninviting smirk. Of course, it wasn't exactly the same. Jane was more genuine, and her distance and wit seemed more organic.

Quinn revisited the image of Jane drawing her in her mind. Having nothing better to do, Quinn had studied her, perhaps more closely than Jane was studying Quinn. She noted Jane's focused resolve, her eyebrows furrowing as she closed in on a detail, and the way she would intermittently bite her lip when she seemed to be very delicately approaching the canvas.

As Quinn approached her house, she decided to put the thoughts to rest. _She's just really talented. I admire her,_ she told herself.

Once she entered, she headed towards the kitchen for a much needed glass of water. Daria was heating some leftovers in the microwave.

"Hi," Daria said, leaning against the fridge, still staring at the minutes count down.

"I wasn't _anywhere_, God, can't a girl just have some privacy around her? Do you all have to know _everything_? Are you even aware what stress does to a girl's complexion? Do you want me to have pores the size of YOURS Daria?" She fumed silently as she poured herself water, ignoring Daria's stare.

"I'm not even going to ask," she said in a tone the implied she was all too used to this by now.

As the cold water cooled Quinn's insides, she felt her anxiety subside. She knew she overreacted, but she would never admit it.

"Daria, can I ask you a question?" Her voice was softer now.

"For ten bucks." Quinn reached into her back pocket and pulled out one of the bills Jane had given her, which was a ten, and threw it on the table. Daria gaped at it.

"This must be some question," she said, grabbing the money from the table.

"Not really," said Quinn, sighing as she sat down at the table. "Have you ever like… liked someone who totally wasn't like you?"

"Sure. Kevin will never know how I feel though. But, in all seriousness, haven't we had this conversation before? About David, your tutor?"

"No, I don't mean like that. I _like_ liked him. I just mean…" Quinn paused. She had completely forgotten about David. But the connection became clear to her.

"You can like people who aren't as vapid as your friends, Quinn. And it doesn't mean you want to date them. The time will come when you feel drawn to other types of people."

Quinn faintly nodded. She had begun to realize that when she compared the two situations.

"Thanks, Daria."

"Yup. And Quinn?"

"Yeah?"

Daria stared at the ten, which was still in her hand. She sighed, and shook her head. She was grateful and shocked enough that Quinn had even returned it.

"Never mind."

**6**

After Quinn left, Jane had retreated to her room, blasted the whatever CD was in her stereo (Portishead), and fell onto her bed, burying her face in her pillow.

The memory she had tried so hard to suppress, and rather successfully up until this point, came flooding back.

_I'm sorry baby, but I never hit on straight chicks._

_Listen, you've been really nice to me and all, and I really appreciate it, but I'm not interested in women._

_You mean you're not ready to admit it._

She remembered how sure Alison seemed, how confident and almost smug she was about it. And later on, Alison had brushed it off as her making a mistake, but what else was she going to do? Keep trying to analyze Jane? She had already found someone else that she wanted.

It had troubled Jane, who had never even considered that possibility before. After all, she had relationships with guys before. They were fine. Fun, even. Okay, so there was no real spark, no butterflies that consumed her soul or any of that crap. She had chalked it up to being a high schooler who hadn't found the right guy yet. Had to develop her sexuality, or something.

_Not ready to admit it_.

She groaned as Alison's words echoed in her head. Jane had quashed all the turmoil and self-questioning that Alison's words had instilled in her. So much so that she hadn't even considered that maybe using Quinn as a nude model was a bad idea. But it was too late, and the stirrings of the terrible memory started to take force as Jane tried to focus on her painting, but she had fought it off and let art consume her in that moment. But now, she had no barrier. The memory was laughing at her, asking her to face it head-on.

"God dammit," she mumbled, squeezing the pillow with clenched fists. She turned over and stared at the ceiling, breathing deeply.

"Let's sort out the facts, Lane," she said to herself. She had never seen anyone else naked before. Not up close like that anyway. So maybe the Quinn thing was just some weird reaction. Maybe even jealousy. Not that Jane had body issues… but maybe it was latent. She clung to this thought hopefully.

_Who is the hottest guy_, she thought. _Hmm… well, Tom was handsome, I'll give him that. And maybe fantasizing about him can be my form of revenge. Lame, but why not?_

She closed her eyes and tried to picture Tom naked, bestowing him very generously in all areas. She tried to take all they had to done together (which was mostly just making out) and further it in her mind. She quickened the pace of her breathing, as though this would trick her into feeling aroused. But eventually, she gave up. She wasn't responding.

In his place came Quinn, whose body Jane was able to envision with devastating accuracy. The feelings from before came back, more intense than before. She was alone; there was no external source to muffle and quiet them. Her chest felt tight, and her breathing was now out of control – it had become rapid and almost painful. To imagine that body snaking around hers, that soft flesh against her own, was becoming more unbearable and yet irresistible with each passing moment.

For the first time, she had an urge to reach down there, and guide the feeling to where she knew it wanted to go. But she was too scared. She sat straight up, and ran out of her room and down the stairs, knowing she wouldn't be able to help herself if she lay there any longer.

She poured herself a cup of water and drank it all in one go.

"Dammit Lane," she muttered. Her heart was still pounding, but those feelings had faded somewhat. She sat at the table, and rested her head on her arms.

"Dammit."


	4. Chapter 4

**7**

When Jane awoke, she was granted a few seconds of peaceful, ignorant bliss. The magnitude of the previous day came rushing back in, twisting into a knot in the center of her chest. She rubbed her eyes, too groggy to properly handle the stress. The phone rang, slightly jolting her out of her sleepy daze.

"Hello?"

"Hey. Don't tell me I woke you up." It was Daria.

"Uh… not quite. Missed it by about half a minute."

"Well the movie is in an hour and a half, so you should start coming by soon." _Shit. The movie_, Jane thought.

"Alright. Later."

"See ya."

Jane stared into space for a minute or two, letting the blankness of her mind engulf her. Then she brushed her hair out of her eyes, got up, and started getting ready on autopilot.

Ten minutes later, she had brushed her teeth, put her usual ensemble on, and was out the door with a granola bar in her hand and her headphones in her ears. Radiohead filled her head as she lightly jogged to Daria's.

_And let's just say you did like girls_, her mind began to say, like one of those people who continue conversations hours later. _Why would you like Quinn? Of all people!_

Jane quickened her pace, hoping to leave the thoughts in the dust. But they were relentless.

_Now Daria. There's the kind of person you should like. She's more like you. _

Jane started running as fast as she could.

_I don't like anyone so SHUT. UP. _

She arrived at Daria's slightly out of breath, her forehead slightly glistening with sweat. Thankfully she was in shape enough to not be wheezing by that point. Daria answered the door and beckoned Jane in wordlessly as she munched on a waffle.

Jane felt uneasy as she followed Daria to the kitchen. What if, in light of recent events, she found herself pining for Daria? That would be catastrophic beyond belief.

"Let me just finish what I'm eating, and then we'll head out," Daria said, sitting down at the table.

"Yup." Jane leaned against the counter, crossing her legs and arms, trying to affect a bored, relaxed demeanor. She studied Daria as she ate. Daria was pretty, but that she already knew. It was hard to try to find feelings like _that _for Daria. It was too weird. She was too close, too familiar.

_What if she was sitting there naked? Maybe she looks like Quinn._

Jane groaned at the intrusion of that obnoxious voice in her head.

"What was that?" Daria asked.

"Nothing. Just thinking about an assignment I have to get done."

"Okay… How did it go last night?"

"Oh, uh… college girl. From the local college. She was nice. Went well."

"Damn," said Daria, bringing her plate to the sink. "I was kind of hoping you'd have some crazy story to tell."

"Yeah," said Jane weakly, praying for the conversation to end. She followed Daria as they headed towards the door, when a car started beeping frantically outside. Quinn came rushing down the stairs, followed by Helen.

"I'm going to the mall with Sandi to buy those platforms I wanted!" said Quinn.

"You were just begging for money a week ago! How are you going to pay for them?" asked Helen, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"Muh-ommm! I told you last night, I volunteered at the nursing home!"

"Quinn, do you know what it even means to volunteer?" asked Daria. Quinn spun around to face Daria, and blanched at the sight of Jane. Jane kept her eyes glued somewhere innocuous, like Quinn's shoes.

"Yes, Daria," she exclaimed, not missing a beat. "But the old people paid me anyway because I did such a good job. You know how they're always stuffing twenties in kid's pockets! Anyway, good _bye_!" She glanced at Jane once more before rushing out the door. Helen stood still on the stairs, her eyes narrowed.

"And where are you two going?" she asked with a sigh.

"Movie," said Daria.

"New foreign film," added Jane.

"Alright. Well, have fun you two," Helen said, and went back upstairs.

"That was weird," said Daria as they left the house.

"Yeah. Wonder what double life Quinn is leading," said Jane.

"The weird part is she paid me back the ten dollars last night. She must have done something to get the money. And I thought she was just being nice."

"Hey, she could've pocketed your cash anyway." Daria shrugged.

"I guess."

"So… what's this movie about again?" asked Jane, desperate to change the subject.

"It's some kind of twisted romance. This guy is obsessed with this girl, except he's a deadbeat artist, barely making a living, and she's a gorgeous but completely vapid heiress. It's a completely shallow obsession. There's a lot of sex and I'm pretty sure they both die tragically in the end."

Jane gulped. "Wow." _You've got to be kidding me_.

"Yeah. Sounds like the making of some corny Hollywood movie. But it's supposed to be really good, so we'll see."

Jane sighed. This was going to be a long day.

**8**

Evening had come along, and Quinn had just finished getting ready for her date. Matt Sanders was picking her up that night, and he was more popular and definitely hotter than many of her recent dates. Quinn pictured his dark hair and chiseled face, which was not unlike Brad Pitt's. This was Stacey's realization; Quinn had never made the connection herself. But he was definitely attractive, and this much she knew. She had to look her best.

She stared at herself in her full-length mirror. Her platform sandals were the perfect, subtle shade of light pink, complimenting her dark, almost black jeans perfectly. A white lacy halter top and small pearl earrings completed her look. Well… almost. She pulled her hair up into a high ponytail, which showed off her slender shoulders, and the delicate slope of her neck.

_Perfect_, she thought, and smiled with satisfaction. She grabbed her denim jacket and her small purse, and headed for the door, anticipating Matt to be arriving quite soon.

As she came downstairs, the door opened, and Daria and Jane came through, chuckling about something.

"Nice platforms," Daria said. "And you didn't even need my ten to get them." Quinn rolled her eyes.

"I don't know _what_ you're talking about, Daria. And I have a date, so I really don't want to get into it." Her eyes shifted to Jane, who was looking in the farthest possible direction, as if she were totally disinterested in the conversation.

"Get into _what_?" asked Daria, with mock innocence. There was a sharp knock on the door.

"That's my date. Go _away_!" hissed Quinn.

"I was going to stay and watch, but if you insist," said Daria.

Quinn opened the door to see Matt standing there with a bouquet of roses, grinning widely.

"Hey."

"Hey," said Quinn, closing the door quickly behind her, and accepting the flowers.

"Ready to go, babe?" he asked, still wearing a toothy grin.

"Of course," said Quinn. "Chez Pierre?"

"Is there anywhere else?" He opened the door to his lime green convertible, gesturing for Quinn to enter. She giggled as she slid into cool, leather exterior of the car seat.

"Of course not," she said.

He hopped into the front seat and gunned the engine, looking over at Quinn to make sure she was thoroughly impressed.

As they drove, he chattered about football, being better than Kevin, and being quarterback next year. Quinn nodded and chimed in at the right moments, saying things like "Oh of course" and "You definitely could do it!" And when she wasn't, she stared at the window, trying hard to follow his rants enough to keep up the commentary.

_Maybe someone I know will be there on a date too_, she thought. _They'll see me with Matt. That'll be exciting. _

When they got to Chez Pierre, he had finally stopped talking for a bit, enough to allow them to find a table.

"You look hot," he remarked, ogling her for the first time all night.

"Thanks," she said. "I just got these shoes today, I-"

"That shirt looks so good on you," he interrupted, staring intensely. Quinn shifted in her seat uncomfortably. Most guys were at least a little shy enough to not be so forward. But Matt had more confidence than a lot of the guys at Lawndale High.

"Thanks," she muttered. She grabbed the menu and tried to focus intensely.

"What are you even reading it for?" he asked, and then laughed. "Let me guess, a garden salad?"

"Uh, actually I usually get a Caesar," she said.

"Wow. Careful," he said, trying a little too hard to make it sound like a joke.

"Yeah," Quinn said, awkwardly laughing. She couldn't help but think that if Jane were there, she would have put him in his place.

_Jane wouldn't even be on a date with someone like Matt_, she thought, and then felt a twinge of guilt immediately after, as if she had insulted a good friend.

As Quinn and Matt ate their food, she couldn't help but notice how viciously he ate his meal. In between each sentence it seemed like, he would stab a hunk of meat ferociously with his fork, as if he were trying to make it bleed before sticking it into his mouth, and he would chew it with such force she could hear his teeth slamming together. It was in rhythm with his diatribes, which he was continuing from the car.

When they left, Matt paid in full, which was a plus one for him. He then reminded Quinn how beautiful she looked, which was another point.

_Maybe he's not so bad,_ she thought. _And he really is hot._

"I had a really nice time tonight," she said when they were back on the road.

"Oh, the night's not over _yet_," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"Quinn, you're too cute," he said, slapping her thigh lightly. Quinn gripped her seat tightly, trying to calm her nerves. They began weaving through silent, residential streets, but none near Quinn's house.

"I should probably get home Matt, I do have a curfew," she said. Matt pulled to the right, parking next to a trail area.

"So we don't have to take long," he said.

"Take long to do _what_?" she asked. He stretched out his arm and gently stroked Quinn's cheek.

"C'mon…" he said. "Quinn, you're so beautiful." Her breathing quickened and she wasn't sure if she was excited or nervous or both.

"Matt…" She looked at him. So he was a little self-centered, but he had been kind to her, and maybe this wouldn't be so bad?

He unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned in slowly in to kiss her. It was soft at first, and Quinn let herself give in. After a few moments, her heart began to sink.

It was her first kiss, and it was nothing like she expected. Instead, she was acutely aware of the saliva on his lips, and how so much of it was smeared on hers. She almost gagged at the thought.

His kiss deepened, and his tongue slipped into her mouth. His hands were on her back, rubbing and squeezing, and they had found their way to her halter top, ready to untie it. Her skin was crawling under his clammy hands. She broke away, shaking her head.

"No! No. Please… I don't want to do this anymore," she said, her voice barely audible.

"Come _on _Quinn, you have no reason to be shy." She could hear lust in his voice, gravely and deep, and it made her want to run far away.

He kissed her again, his hands running through her hair. She tried once again to get into the moment, but it felt wrong. She was bristling at his touch. She pulled away again, more roughly than before.

"No," she said, firmly this time. "Matt, I'm serious. Take me home." He pulled back, and stared at her. His lip was slightly curled, and his jaw was clenched, but he seemed calm otherwise.

"Alright," he finally said, holding his hands up. "It's no problem."

"Thanks," she said meekly. They didn't' say anything else till they pulled up in front of his house.

"Thanks again," she said. "I had a, um… good time. Really."

"Don't mention it, babe," he told her. His original grin was plastered back on his face, as if nothing had happened.

Quinn stood on the sidewalk as he drove away, trying to keep the tears from filling her eyes. Instead of going inside, she began to walk, needing the fresh air, and the space. She walked quickly, letting the sound of her heartbeat fill her ears, fighting back tears, until she reached the park, where she collapsed on a swing, and let the tears finally fall.


End file.
